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The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Third-day, October 8, 1867

FromReview and Herald, Vol. XXX, No. 17

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THE HOUR OF PRAYER.

Dear Lord is any hour so sweet, From blush of morn to evening star, As that which calls me to thy feet— The hour of prayer?

Blest be that tranquil hour of morn, And blest that solemn hour of eve, When, on the wings of prayer upborne, The world I leave!

For then a day-spring shines on me, Brighter than morn’s ethereal glow; And richer dews descend from thee Than earth can know.

Then is my strength by thee renewed; Then are my sins by thee forgiven; Then dost thou cheer my solitude With hopes of Heaven.

Words cannot tell what sweet relief Here for every want I find— What strength for warfare, balm for grief, What peace of mind.

Hushed is each doubt, gone every fear; My spirit seems in Heaven to stay, And even the penitential tear Is wiped away.